Ladies' Night
by Kettricken
Summary: As it turned out, shouting “bounty hunters” in a disreputable portside bar was a bit more galvanizing than shouting “pirates!” on a sleepy East Blue Island..." High adventure on the seas of the Grand Line! Usopp, Nami, Robin, gen. 2/?.
1. Chapter 1

Ladies' Night

Nami raised her glass and swirled the brandy into a slow, circling tide.

"So peaceful," she said.

Through the curved glass' refraction, there was only Robin, cheek in her hand, sitting across the small table. No snoring Zoro, no simpering Sanji, no Luffy and Usopp and Chopper cavorting with chopsticks in their noses—not tonight.

The crew's latest addition, Franky, had been the final blow in Nami's ongoing seige war against testosterone. When Luffy knocked her over on the way to breakfast, he looked so hapless she forgave him; Sanji twice brought her sweets and lemonade as an excuse for ogling, but the lemonade was delicious; Usopp and Chopper used lunch as an occasion for a food fight, but Chopper apologized with aspirin and hot towels for her neck; but in the afternoon, when an explosion of tar, wingnuts, and cola exploded all down Sunny's decks and across her newspaper, Nami decreed in a huff that when they made port that night, the boys could do as they liked, but they were to leave the ladies alone. And, so as to prevent the obvious cajolery, particularly Sanji.

Luckily, the port in question was big enough for a respectable wine bar in addition to the typical sailor's pub. It wasn't a large establishment, and the red-papered walls were streaked black by decades of candle smoke, but the cellar had proven excellent; two empty bottles stood on the table now, and Robin's smile had passed through serenity and into the beatific.

Nami tipped back the cup, and the last of the liquor burned down her throat.

"I can't think around them sometimes," she said.

"Ah. But sometimes, that's good," Robin said. "Not thinking."

Nami smiled. "True."

The night was nearly spent. Theirs was one of three tables remaining. By the window, a young group, maybe artists or students, laughed over the dregs of a cheap vintage and scrounging up coins to pay their bill; in another corner, a few older men sat enclosed in a shroud of cigar smoke.

"It's a luxury," Nami said, suppressing a hiccup. "Not thinking is a luxury. I don't think any of the others can understand that. Sure, we all have our little tragedies, but you and me—we know what it's like to grow up like that. Living off your wits, everybody against you for so long, and if you let your guard down even a minute, it's all finished. Dead." She splayed her fingers. "It's hard to stop living them—the lives of a thief and a refugee."

"Or of a slave."

"Oh… no, I was never _that_."

Robin sipped her brandy, but did not drop her gaze.

It was Nami who looked down first. "Well, mm. At any rate, you're not the first one of us to betray him. That's all I wanted to say." She set down the cup. "I was."

"I know."

Nami sat back, shocked. "You do?"

Robin's eyes were laughing. "Cook-san told me. Really, that man isn't quite as foolish as he acts."

Nami grinned. "Oh, yes he is. Didn't anyone fill you in on what happened to Califa?"

As the students finally gave in to the evening and tramped past them in a half-drunken daze, she refilled the older woman's glass one more time.

xXxXxXxXx

Two blocks away at the Scurvy Scalawag, the cook in question was sinking over his mug of beer. "Mellorine?" he moped, sipped the beer, and belched; then said, softer, "Mellorine…"

"Sanji! Really…" Usopp sighed. "If you're so desperate, there are women right over there, look—women!"

Sanji raised his head, the ends of his hair dripping foam. There were, indeed, three women in the corner. One was even under fifty. Unfortunately, she was also over six feet tall, and had a rather suspicious bulge.

Sanji averted his eyes. "Mellorine," he said, mournfully.

"Yosh!" This was Luffy, banging his tankard onto the table beside Zoro. "Enough drinking. Let's get Nami and Robin and go back to the ship."

Sanji was up like a gunshot, grabbing for his jacket.

"Wait, wait—Sanji, I'll go get them," Usopp put his hand on the other man's arm. "You remember Nami said not you, particularly."

"That hardly seems fair. I'm not the one who ruined her newspaper."

Zoro rolled his eyes. "Keep it in your pants, love-cook. Oi, Luffy—one more round?"

"Ten minutes. I'll be back with them, I promise." Usopp grinned. "Order an extra three."

Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten. The houses to the east, up the hill, were silhouetted against a blue that deepened up to the black canopy of the stars, stretching over and back, all the way down to the westward cove where the Sunny was docked. Usopp whistled as his boots clacked on the cobblestones. Franky wasn't such a bad sort, after all; he took some getting used to, but the compulsive urges of inveterate tinkerers were not to be denied, and they had already begun collaborating on a few projects, here and there. The only question was whether to introduce him to dials—or should that particular weapon remain part of Captain Usopp's personal bag of tricks? After all, he didn't have many dials to spare. And Franky hardly needed them… the thought of what he might make of a jet dial was entirely too terrifying. Or perhaps just technologically incompatible.

Instinctively, Usopp stopped whistling and leaned against the nearest building. The wine bar was the next door down, but something about the thumping noises inside didn't sit right—he turned to face the wall, bent over, an inconspicuous drunk. Someone was coming out. There was a thick odor of cigars—and a faint one of flowers.

"Two, three hundred—and thank you for the service."

A bar bill? It was awfully high…

"Shht! This doesn't get back to me, remember? That crew has some scary guys."

"Heh. What affair is that of mine?"

Usopp stole a glance. The man was old, but well-muscled, and his arm bore the scarred remains of a tattooed anchor. A marine deserter, probably. His arm also, for that matter, bore a large burlap sack.

Usopp turned his head back too quickly. The man had seen him look; now more of them were coming out. The sack was too large for Nami. Robin? A hand grabbed his shoulder, and he sagged away from it, doing his best impression of jelly. _Hissatsu ketchup boshi!_ _Hissatsu ketchup boshi!_

"You—what are you doing here?"

"He ain't one of them," said another man. "Ain't on the posters. He's probably one of them students as left earlier." Behind them, he could hear the clacking of the key—the barkeeper was locking up. Only four, then. _Only four?_ What was he, crazy?

Usopp fumbled at his pants. "Wuzzah?" he mumbled. "Omyunna… izzat Solly?"

"What did you see?"

"Oh, fer—Grimes, the kid ain't see'd anything, and he just peed on my shoe."

The other two laughed as the old sailor backhanded Usopp. He fell down, letting his eyes half close. There were two burlap sacks.

"Better just knock him out then," said Grimes. "Just in case."

The kick took him in the jaw—no Sanji, but there was power there. His stomach lurched at the pain of it, and he remembered that he had been drinking, quite heavily. He had to stay awake. But don't tense up, don't clutch your fingernails into your arms—play dead, stay awake, play dead—

"Hurry up. Tide shifts in twenty minutes." The voices were receding. "Who'd think two broads could take that much laudanum sitting up?"

"That's no broad, that's Nico Robin, man. _Nico Robin_."

"Seventy-nine million!" sang out the second man.

"Eighty!"

Then the sky reached down for him, and he blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

Ladies' Night

Chapter 2

When Usopp put his hand against the doorframe of the pub and heard the revelry inside--the chill morning air tickling down his neck—there was a moment in which he wanted to vanish. A creeping revulsion stole up from his legs and churned his stomach to bitterness; it pinned him to the pavement. The scenario was too familiar, and its repetition was too degrading, so soon after his failure on Water 7. He had been unable to face his crewmates then; instead he had gone in against Franky, and gotten himself nearly killed by opponents who later fell like tissue paper before his nakama. Now as before, he faced them having failed; and this time, it was a Luffy without Nami to soften and humanize him. This was Zoro's Luffy, tempered by the hard expectations of his triple steel. And there, too, was Franky.

But this was only a moment. Dignity had never been his strong suit, anyway, Usopp told himself; and he was well used to swallowing bitter pills.

He swallowed now, straightened his nose, and shouted as he burst into the bar:

"Bounty hunters!"

The effect was immediate. Luffy and the others wheeled to face him; so did the rest of the patrons of the Scurvy Scalawag. The Mugiwaras were not the only crew in town that night, and, as it turned out, shouting "bounty hunters" in a disreputable portside bar was a lot more galvanizing than shouting "pirates!" on a sleepy East Blue island. There was a still moment; and then great tide of chaos rolled over the room. Bearded thugs lunged for weaponry, old women sprang up from their tankards, men rushed up the stairs to yell for their dallying crewmates, and there were shrieks and muffled clatters overhead. A stream of scoundrels and rogues pushed around Usopp towards the door, and the bartender pulled down a noisy wooden shutter as he reached for his rifle. Luffy had to yell at the top of his lungs just to get over the cacophany. Luckily, rubber lungs could hold a great deal of air.

"Nami and Robin?"

"Taken!" Usopp panted. "By four men. They were drugged, or poisoned."

Luffy reached a rubber arm halfway across the room and snagged his coat as Usopp spoke, provoking more generalized panic.

"Where were they taken?"

"To a ship. I don't know how long I was out, Luffy—they may already have sailed."

Luffy looked down. "Franky," he said. "Sunny-gou…"

"You got it. Chopper and I will have her rigged and ready when you get back." The cyborg whistled. "Heh… never a dull moment with this crew, is it?"

Zoro and Sanji, without instruction, were already moving to flank their captain.

"All right. Usopp." Luffy's eyes met his, serious and determined, but his mouth was broadening into a feral grin. "Lead the way."

They rode the chaos out of the bar.

Dawn was cresting the hill, but the shadows of the buildings were still long and deep. Grimes and the others hadn't headed to the main harbour cove, that much Usopp was certain of. They'd gone down into winding back alleys that led towards the north end of the island-- a maze of low wooden houses whose roofs met overhead, obscuring the sky. They ran up stairs and under awnings, got turned completely around twice and had to start again; it was only the general slope of the island that helped them find their way back out to the sea, and when they did reach it, they were no-where near a harbour. However, this didn't matter. A schooner was making headway under full sail away from the island. No other craft were visible, and the boat was probably a good hour out.

"Shit!" Sanji lit another cigarette. His hand trembled a little in the autumn air. "That can't be right. Bounty hunters wouldn't use such a conspicuous ship, would they? Eh, marimo?"

There was no answer.

"Shit… where has he gotten off to?"

Luffy's gaze had never left the schooner. "It's them," he said.

"You sure about that?"

Luffy grinned as he turned. "There's only one way to find out," he said.

Usopp glanced at the sun. "I'd say it's about two more hours until the log post resets," he said. "If we're wrong, we'll be able to come back."

"The log post…" Sanji paused. "Wasn't it with Nami-swan?"

A second silence enveloped them, this time accompanied by the realization that the person who had been kidnapped, leaving them to pursue her into the dangerous waters of the Grand Line, was, in fact, their navigator.

"…well, Franky can sail, right?" said Usopp. "I mean… I know they have seatrains where he comes from, so maybe he didn't do it very often, and those ships he built were never the most practical long-range vessels, as these—"

"Sunny's this way, right?"

" – things go, but—Luffy, wait! That's inland, the harbour's the other way!"

"Oh, let him go," Sanji puffed. "We have to find the damn marimo. Luffy's got as good a shot at finding Zoro that way as any other."

xXxXxXxXxXx

In the belly of a ship, in a little room filled with women, Nami lay in the top hammock by the wall. The ship wasn't the Thousand Sunny, she knew that much. The wood was unkempt and aging, and there was too much pitch and roll. Franky would never do such incompetent work. Robin was in the hammock below her, humming softly. It was vaguely pleasant, but there was no need to listen too carefully. The little girl was still staring at them both from across the room. It didn't really matter, though. She was a prisoner. Her job was to behave.

There was a funny mark on her hand. The minute she'd woken up it had caught her attention. It was black, and the design was nothing much to speak of, but an odd balance in the proportions of it kept drawing her eye back in. Looking at the mark, tracing the irregularities of its lines, was pleasant and calming. When she didn't look at it, she became agitated quite quickly, and she felt as if something was terribly wrong. It was unpleasant. She didn't like it. Hadn't she had enough unpleasant things in her life, after all? Luckily, though, there was the mark, tattooed right there on her hand, and she could look right back down at it whenever she needed to. It was even all right to stay in the hammock all day looking at it, if she had to. After all, she was a prisoner, and the only thing she had to do was behave.

There came a time when a man came into the room and brought them food.

"This boat is in terrible shape," Nami said to him. "How long have we been sailing?"

"Oh, this boat's been goin' a good few years now," said the man. "Grand Line's hard wear. But we've only been a few months on this particular voyage, and you came on this morning. But don't trouble yourself about it; we're only a few weeks' sail from Marine HQ now."

Nami didn't answer him. There was something very wrong in what he was saying, and she had to look at the mark to stop her heart from racing. When it was calmer, she began to eat the hard, flat bread, without looking at it. Crumbs smeared across her face. Robin had not left her bunk for food.

The little girl was still staring at them. Her frame was perfectly still, and her eyes were blank and slack. When the man finally snuffed the candle, the last thing Nami saw was the glint of those slack eyes.

"You know me," said the girl in the darkness.

"Of course I know you," said Nami. "I'm not stupid, you know."

"I wasn't talking to you."

Below her, Robin shifted in her bunk. "Miss Goldenweek," she said.

Nami's breathing was quickening again. She stared furiously at the pattern. Why wouldn't they stop talking.

"Miss All Sunday." The girl breathed. "Help me, please. I need some ink."

Robin said nothing.

"Please," said Miss Goldenweek. "Help me, and I can get us all out."

"I'm a prisoner," said Robin. "Where would I go?"

After that there was nothing but silence and the pitching of the ship. They were riding into choppy weather; Robin rolled herself deeper into the hammock.


End file.
